


Restless Night

by Hot_elf



Series: The Old Guard - Nicky & Joe [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: Nicky can't sleep, and he hates it.Companion piece to "Lazy Morning", this time from Nicky's point of view.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Old Guard - Nicky & Joe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961992
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Restless Night

Nicky can't sleep, and he hates it. There seems to be no good reason why he is still lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Everything is as it should be: the room is cool and quiet, with just a tiny sliver of moonlight stealing in through a gap in the curtains to bathe everything in its silvery sheen; and Joe is lying next to him, holding him tightly. Just as it should be.

They've been sleeping like this for as long as Nicky can remember, with Joe's muscular arms a bulwark against a world that's growing ever more confusing, the proximity of his body comforting and warm, no matter where they are and what they've been through. It's the one constant in their lives, the one thing guaranteed to make him feel safe and secure.

And yet, he can't sleep. He's tired, and he knows it's past time to sleep, but at the same time, he's buzzing all over, itching to move. Cursing under his breath, he wiggles around a little, trying to stretch his legs without waking Joe. But it's no use.

Already, Joe is pulling him closer, suppressing a yawn. " _Cosa c'è_?" His voice sounds drowsy and a little rough. "Can't sleep?"

Nicky shakes his head in frustration, even though he knows Joe can't see it in the dim light. Joe responds with a gentle shush, a calming hand placed on his chest, but that only serves to irritate him further. With a snarl, he twists around in Joe's arms and grabs his head, fingers entangling in his thick luxurious curls, and pulls him down for a kiss.

Their mouths collide with such force that their teeth clang against each other, and for a heartbeat, Nicky tastes blood, his own or Joe's- he doesn't know, and he doesn't care. Joe makes a small, surprised noise, but then he opens up and deepens the kiss, his tongue claiming every inch of Nicky's mouth with a thoroughness that leaves him entirely breathless.

And yes, this is what he needs, this is what he's been craving. Shamelessly, he arches up into Joe's touch, yanking up his shirt to feel his skin, warm and smooth. Joe responds in kind, and moments later, somehow, they're both shirtless, chest to chest, though Nicky can't recall them breaking the kiss for even a heartbeat. It feels so good, though, and he wants more, needs _more_.

Without having to be told, Joe works a hand into his pants, his fingers closing around Nicky's cock with just the right amount of pressure to make his mind momentarily go blank. He returns the favour, dragging down Joe's pants, and now they're both bare, and Joe's cock is in his hands, thick and blunt and achingly familiar, and that, too, is just as it should be.

Joe is panting, and his gaze feverish, as they rut against each other, eyes locked, so close they share a single breath. And he's so beautiful like this, so perfect, and Nicky wants him so much it _hurts_.

He knows exactly how he wants him, too. Pulling back just a little, he arranges Joe against the headboard of the bed, then straddles him, holding him down with his weight. And Joe just... lets him do it, allows him to take whatever he wants, so utterly pliant, so completely focussed on what Nicky wants. And that is so much like him, really, always putting his beloved's needs first. For all he waxes poetic about Nicky's kindness, Joe can be just as generous, just as sweet.

This is no time for sweetness, however. Grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer, Nicky sets about getting them both ready with quick, efficient movements. Joe is watching him hungrily, but makes no attempt to help, just drinking it all in with his gorgeous dark eyes. His cock feels like silk under Nicky's hands, his skin smooth and warm and stretched tight, and it's almost a pity to let go of him once he's all lubed up and ready.

Almost, but not really, because Nicky is so worked up himself by now that he can barely wait. Catching Joe's gaze again, he lifts himself up, hands firmly placed on Joe's strong shoulders, and then slowly lowers himself down on him. The small noise coming from Joe's throat is music to his ears, and the expression in his eyes... Not for the first time, Nicky wishes he were a poet, like Hafiz or Petrarca, talented enough to put into words what Joe makes him feel, to make it tangible and put it to paper, to preserve it forever.

Or maybe this is bigger than words, bigger than anything on this world they've both spent so much time exploring. Maybe there is simply no language that can do justice to the overwhelming flood of emotions that take possession of him when their bodies are joined like this: lust, love, devotion, longing, ecstasy... Nicky doesn't know what to call it, and it doesn't matter. All that counts is that they're here, together, in each other's arms, forever.

The gentle brush of Joe's finger against his lips tears him out of reverie. His lover is smiling indulgently, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in genuine amusement. "Stop thinking. Move."

And he does. He allows his body to take over, and it is _glorious._ Effortlessly, he falls into a steady, unwavering rhythm, bearing down hard on Joe who takes it all without complaining, and Gods, it is so good, so absolutely, mind-blowingly _perfect_. It really must have been destiny that brought them together, for surely, their bodies are made for each other, a perfect fit in all the right places, expressly created to give each other the maximum of pleasure that is humanly possible.

When Joe finally takes hold of him, it takes only a few skilled strokes for Nicky to come, to spill all over Joe's chest, the pattern of white an obscene witness to their shared ecstasy. Joe curses and clings to him hard, burying his face against his shoulder, and Nicky can _feel_ him come, _feel_ the rush of adrenaline all through his body, followed by the sudden heaviness of satisfaction.

And now his own body finally gives in, too, and he sinks into the sheets next to his lover, suddenly limp with exhaustion. Already, he can feel sleep overtake him, and the last thing he hears is Joe's soft laugh as he gently pulls the blanket over both their bodies.

Then he is blissfully, deeply asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles and thanks to the most amazing beta ever, my dear friend suilven.


End file.
